Of Tigers and Hunters
by Shpodoinkle
Summary: The story of an Imperial Guard regiment rife with heresy that is forced into a desperate alliance with the Eldar for the good of the Imperium. All is well until the Ordo Xenos arrives to investigate. In a story of action, mystery and adventure, will the Hunters become the hunted?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Dusk settled over the city, and with it, rain. Not that it made much difference; it was always dark and wet here. Yet Alexander didn't feel miserable. He had grown up on this planet, and felt at home in the rain. He pulled his hood further over his face. A chill passed through him, wether it was the rain or something else… he wasn't sure.

"Keep up, Xander," Felix called back to him.

"I don't like it here," he replied. "It makes me… uneasy."

"Don't be so weak." Alex could see the thrill behind his friend's eyes. The two had been friends since childhood; Alex couldn't remember how they had met. Felix had always been the most outgoing of the pair. Alex could remember many a time he had picked his friend up after he had passed or knocked himself out.

Indeed, the evening they had planned was Felix's idea. Alexander remembered their conversation not a week past.

"_My mate knows someone who can hook us up, if you know what I mean."_ Felix had said to him with a wink. _"You still keen on trying some?"_

"_I suppose so,"_ Alex had replied meekly. _"Maybe at my place, or something."_

"_Oh, live a little,"_ Felix grinned. _"Besides, it'd be too dangerous walking around the streets with it."_

Next thing he knew, Alex had been introduced to Felix's 'mate'. A sickly looking man who smelt as bad as he looked, Alex had been told to stand guard while Felix talked to him in hushed tones.

Now here he was, following his best friend through the capital's alleyways. They were so narrow that the two youths could only barely walk abreast. Caged windows littered the walls that rose over fifty metres above them. Dim light shone from some, voices echoed from others. Alex heard ten too many screams for his liking. This was a bad part of town.

The two exited the alleyway into an almost deserted street. At the end of the street to his right Alex saw two prostitutes standing under a flickering lamppost. He quickly averted his gaze. His mother had told him that prostitutes were the demons of Slaanesh in human form, and that they could kill a man by simply looking at him.

It seemed Felix had as much sense as he did, because he turned left and walked away from the women. For a second Alex thought the Emperor himself must have been leading him away from evil, until Felix stopped in front of a building blacker than the night sky. Dull thuds from inside could be heard.

"Here we are," Felix said cheerily.

"A club?" Alex said, shocked. "No. We'll die."

"Come on Xander, you know most of those things your mother told you aren't true." He shoved a wad of paper money into Alex's hand.

"This looks true enough for me." Without warning, the black doors swung open and two huge bouncers stepped out.

"Get in or keep moving," one said gruffly. Felix quickly stepped towards the entrance.

"Felix what are you doing?" Alex whispered urgently.

"Just follow me, there's nothing to worry about," his friend replied before disappearing into the blackness of the club. Alex looked hopelessly around him. He couldn't leave his friend in there alone.

_Emperor, forgive me,_ he prayed as he walked into the thudding blackness.

He rounded a corner and entered a theatre-like room. The thudding music was so loud it shook the sense out of him. Smoke hazed his vision which had developed a purple tint. The club was split into two levels. The majority of the ground floor was taken up by a dance floor that was covered in a thrashing mass of people. Colourful lights flashed around the room.

A long bench was on the opposite end of the room. Grisly looking bartenders gave out exotic looking drinks to their customers from the wall behind them. The upper level of the theatre was dedicated to circular tables. Alex could see a clear distinction between the higher and lower class of city scum in the club.

Fights were breaking out all over the dance floor. Bulky men rushed towards them before anyone got seriously injured. He could see prostitutes with their clients, lost in their paid love. Drunks stumbled around everywhere, feeling and fearing nothing. On the balcony of the second floor stood a sinister group of men, richly dressed and looking down on the club. He couldn't see Felix anywhere.

His scanning for his friend was interrupted by an arm around his shoulder and a leg around his hip. Before he knew it, a woman had latched herself onto him.

"Come here alone?" She whispered into his ear. Alex's heart leapt into his mouth.

"Off." He shrugged her away and headed for the bar, trying to sound stern. It must not have worked because she followed him. He tried to lose her amongst the crowded floor, but to no avail.

_Why is she following me?_ He thought to himself. _Emperor, protect me._ He had hoped to lose her before he got to the bar. He didn't even know what he was going to say once he got there, and he didn't want to look green in front of her.

He reached the bar and put an elbow on it in an attempt to look casual. Within seconds a huge, grisly man was in front of him. He wore an apron that was probably white once. Alex swore he could see fresh blood amongst the brown muck already present. The man raised an eyebrow at him without saying a word. It took Alex a second to realise that was his cue.

"Oh, I'll have… um," he stammered.

"Two doombolts, if you please," Alex's pursuer cut over him, sidling up next to him. The bartender grunted and turned away. The woman turned her head and looked into Alex's eyes, her face rich with flirtation. Black hair billowed over her bare shoulders. Alex couldn't tell if her skin was purple due to the lighting or not. "First time?"

"No," Alex shot at her defensively. "You?" The girl laughed. The sound made Alex's heart jump.

"Does it look like my first time?" Alex couldn't help but smile.

"I suppose not," he mumbled. "What do you want?"

"What do I _want?_" the girl moved in closer. Her hand brushed against the inside of his thigh. He could feel her breath on his lips. Alex could sense something amazing about this girl, something thrilling. He lost himself in her exotic perfume. He tilted his head in closer…

…and was jolted out of his stupor by a loud _thud_ on the counter. He snapped his head towards the commotion and saw in front of him two large glasses filled with a frothing blue drink. The bartender grunted and held out a meaty hand. Alex fumbled in his pocket with the notes Felix had given him and gave the bartender several. He must have overpaid, given the way the oaf departed with a dark grin on his face.

He looked back at the woman. He thought he saw a flicker of annoyance dart from her face when he looked at her, but it must have been the lights.

_How could one so pretty get annoyed?_ He thought to himself. He took a brazen gulp of his blue drink. The liquid burnt his throat and sent his world spinning. For a second he thought he was going to spew it out, but he managed to restrain himself. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his new friend.

"You haven't told me your name," he said, almost shouting at her thanks to the music. The girl regarded him. For a split second, Alex thought she wouldn't answer. Then the girl smiled.

"Jenette. What about you?"

"Alexander."

"Alexander," she repeated, savouring the name. "What brings you here, Alex?"

"My friend Felix," he replied with a stupid smile. He paused to take another sip of his drink. Jenette hadn't touched hers. "He's here somewhere; I was looking for him when you found me."

"Oh?" Jenette raised her eyebrows. "Well, I'm sure we can find him."

"I'm not so sure," Alex said, concern piercing its way through the haze that was clouding his mind. "There are a lot of people here." Jenette laughed, again.

_She laughs a lot,_ Alex realised, his brow furrowing. His moment of clarity passed as suddenly as it came, and the haze covered his mind again. _She must like me_.

"The owners of this… establishment… like to appeal to a wide audience," she said. "All the regulars find a niche to settle into, your friend has probably found his."

Alex took another gulp. It went down easier than his first.

"How do I find _my_ niche?" he asked.

"Aren't _I_ your niche?" Jenette replied, playing coy. A dark thought crossed Alex's mind.

_Heh, niche_, he thought to himself. Clarity hit him again. _What are you doing?!_ He shouted to himself. He found himself taking another gulp of his drink. Jenette still hadn't touched hers.

"Xander!" a familiar voice called from behind him before he could reply. He turned around to see Felix with a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. He clapped him on the shoulder. "I told you everything would be fine!" Felix shouted over the music. "And who is _this_?" he inquired with an unconcealed wink. A pale, slender arm extended past Alex's head and into Felix's hand. Jenette's perfume washed over him again, sending him into a state of ecstasy.

"Jenette. A pleasure," she introduced herself. Alex couldn't tell if she was flirting with his friend or not, but felt a pang of jealousy nonetheless that snapped him back to sanity.

"Pleasures all mine," Felix replied with a light kiss on her hand. He flicked his gaze back to Alex. Clearing his throat, he said: "My mate has the stuff. He wants us to do it now."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I didn't ask; he doesn't seem the type to like being questioned."

"Fair enough, let's do it."

"What's this?" Jenette piped up. "Let me come." She hugged Alex from behind and breathed on the back of his neck. His heart leapt again. His face must have betrayed his thoughts.

"Fine," Felix snapped. "Let's go."

He led the pair across the dance floor. They had to weave amongst the thrashing mass and try not to nudge anyone too hard, lest they start a fight. Everyone seemed on edge on the dance floor. Felix led them to the stairs.

Once on the upper floor, the mood seemed to relax. They walked along the edge of the balcony, passing the group of creepy men. Alex looked down to see the chaotic scene of the first floor. Even in his drunken state, it disgusted him.

_I forgot my drink,_ he realised sadly. The group stopped at a closed door. Felix opened it and a cloud of greenish smoke escaped the room.

"He's in there," he said. For the first time in his life, Alex couldn't read his best friends face. Was he worried, or excited? After a moment of analysing, he decided to blame his lack of perception on the drink.

Alex entered the room, Jenette on his heels. Inside was a group of men and women, sitting on cushions in a circle. Candles lined the edges of the room. At the centre of the room was a fire with a bubbling cauldron resting over it. The liquid inside was black and spewing the green smoke that enveloped the room. It made Alex dizzy to inhale it. It was what they had come for. This _drug_. He saw Felix struggle for balance. Jenette didn't seem to have any trouble.

"Sit," the figure at the head of the circle, if there was such a thing, commanded. Alex and Felix sat on the two vacant cushions. Jenette wrapped her arms and legs around Alex's back, latching her small body onto him. He was glad for her company.

"There's no going back now," she whispered into his ear.

_What's she talking about? _He watched a scraggy woman rise off her cushion and bend over the cauldron. She took an elaborate looking cup out of the folds of her robe and plunged it – and her arm – into the depths of the boiling cauldron. Alex winced for the woman who didn't seem to spare a second thought.

The woman drew the cup out of the cauldron. Dark green drops ran from her arm. She passed the cup to the person closest to her, who took a deep breath of the fumes before passing it to their neighbour. A strange feeling crept into Alex's chest as the cup approached him; a combination of excitement and dread. Jenette hugged him tighter. She was stronger than she looked. The man next to him passed the cup.

As soon as his hands closed around it, a jolt of fear spiked its way down his spine. He looked at the cup and saw it was a hollowed out human skull. Green smoke billowed over the edge of its broken crown. Every fibre in his being told him to leave. He tried to stand, but Jenette's grip tightened on his chest, knocking the air out of him and stopping him from rising. He heard a snap and felt a spear of pain drive itself into his chest. She had broken one of his ribs.

"Inhale!" someone commanded him. He couldn't see who. His eyes had gone blurry, from tears or smoke he knew not.

"_There's no going back now,"_ Alex recalled. It seemed like forever ago. _I wish I never came here, _he thought as he brought the cup to his face. He glanced over the brim of the cup at Felix. He was still wearing his expression of anxious excitement. _He doesn't know what's going on,_ Alex realised. He tried to open his mouth to warn him, but his lips wouldn't move. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He turned his gaze back to the black liquid.

He breathed in.

The smoke hit him like a punch to the face. His vision went black. The rushing in his ears stopped. The pain in his chest subsided. He felt his brain spin in his skull. Slowly, his vision came back to him. He heard chuckles around the room.

"Hits you pretty hard, eh?" the man next to him said. "You've no pain to fear anymore."

_Who _are_ these people?_ Alexander thought to himself. He mindlessly passed the cup to Felix. He saw his friend clench up when he grasped the skull, but no expression reached his face. He pitied him. _Oh Felix, you always were so brash._

The sight of his arm tore his attention away from his friend. His skin had gone from the healthy brown it once was to a putrid green. His once-strong, young muscles had seemed to wither and age. He looked around the room and cried out when he saw that the figures in the room had become nothing but a bit of skin on bones. A wretched smell filled his nose.

_They're all dead_, he realised as he kicked himself off his cushion, away from the zombies. He managed to throw Jenette off him as he frantically crawled backwards into the wall behind him. When he saw her he screamed again. Her transformation was the most startling of all. The beautiful young girl he had been flirting with before was gone, replaced by a horrific abomination. She retained much of her face, yet two horns sprouted from her forehead. Giant claws had replaced her hands, and great hoofs her feet.

He saw Felix faint.

"He was too weak," a voice boomed. "Dispose of him."

Without hesitation, Jenette jumped on Felix's body and ripped his throat out with her mouth. Alex watched with horror as his best friend was ripped apart by the deamonette, and within minutes his bones had been picked clean.

He could do nothing but cower in horror. Jenette looked up at him again. Even with her disfigured body, her face still sent thrills down Alex's spine. He hated her for it. She crawled over and sat next to him.

"Welcome to the primordial truth," she whispered into his ear. He looked straight ahead, too disgusted to look at the girl.

He sat in silence as the ruinous cup made its way around the group. He stared into the green smoke. A figure began to form in it. A bloated, horrific face, scarred with countless eons of disease and decay looked at him. Somehow, Alex knew that face, and that only he saw it.

"We had no idea, Papa Nurgle," he whispered.

"I know, child. Now rest."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Sir Achilles Venator, Lord General of the Urban Tigers**

Fort Helios stood near the heart of Ivy City. An imposing structure, the fort's main tower stood almost eighty metres tall. A mighty ceramite wall encircled the compound, housing a yard large enough for an entire small regiment. The place was bustling with movement. Guardsmen performed drills. Officers shouted orders. Enginseers tended to the tanks. It was a place of purpose, a place of strength.

Striding through the centre of it all was one man. Sir Achilles Venator, the Lord General of the Urban Tigers. Men parted ranks to let him pass. No one needed to herald his arrival, he did it himself. He was furious.

"Who even let them in here?" he raged at no one and everyone. "I haven't time for this fool; I'm fighting a _war_, damnit!"

The tower's front door hissed open moments before he passed through it, followed by his retinue of stormtrooper bodyguards. Achilles' wide shoulders almost took up the whole narrow corridor. He made for the elevator, his grand cloak swirling behind him.

The 'fool' in question was Ivy City's mayor, Lord Augustus Maximus had not been thrilled when Achilles had moved into Fort Helios several months ago. The lord had insisted that the Tiger's relocate to a more 'suitable' location. He and Achilles had argued non-stop.

The Lord General stormed into the elevator, almost smashing its control buttons in his rage. The long ride to the top of the tower gave him a moment to regather his thoughts. He knew how the impending conversation was likely to go, they had been in the same quarrel for the past few months.

Lord Maximus would demand the Tigers vacate Fort Helios. He didn't appreciate their presence within his city. He was convinced that they were the cause of the recent spike in criminal activity. There were even rumours of a Chaos cult being formed. Achilles would argue that his men were the only thing keeping the city stable, and that the mayor's lack of strength in these times was causing the unrest in the civilian population.

The Urban Tigers were fighting a losing battle. When the Tau had landed on this planet a year ago, the Tigers had been dispatched to reinforce the planets meagre Planetary Defence Force. Within weeks of landing, Achilles had smashed the planet's various Ork clans and established a bulwark to hold the Tau at bay, but it was too little too late. Everyday the Tau flew in reinforcements while the Tigers had to hold out their onslaught.

Defeat was inevitable until a recent turn of events put the fight in their favour. A secretive alliance had been made with the Eldar. They offered the Tigers aid, so long as they protect their hallowed catacombs that their encampments sat on. The alliance was one forged in shadow, not something Achilles was proud of, but he was not one to let his pride stand over his sense. A pact with the Eldar was necessary, but the fewer people who knew about it, the better. The last thing he needed was to be declared a heretic by the Imperium.

The elevator slowed to a halt and its doors hissed open. Achilles had restrained his anger at the bottom of the tower, and he exited the elevator recomposed. His anger almost broke loose when he saw the two men standing guard on either side of his office's door.

They weren't his men. They were the Lord's bodyguards. They were green in comparison to his own bodyguards, and virtually all that remained of the planet's PDF force. The fight with the Orks had been taxing on the weak. Achilles approached the door with his men in tow. One of the boys held up his hand, signalling for them to halt.

Achilles ignored him.

"Excuse me," the boy squeaked as Achilles strode past him. "Only the Lord General may ente-oof," he managed to say before one of Achilles' bodyguards shouldered his way past him, disarming him along the way. Another bodyguard disarmed the second guard.

Achilles slammed open his office's double doors in a dramatic fashion, announcing his arrival. His office was a large square room at the top of the tower. It gave a commanding view of the yard and surrounding city. Various trophy cases lined the walls. In the corner of the room was Achilles' battle gear mounted on a mannequin. At the centre of the desk was a massive and ornate wooden desk, littered with various papers and devices. Behind the desk was a high-backed leather chair. In that chair sat Augustus Maximus, his arms folded. Achilles temper flared again, but he kept himself in check.

Lord Augustus Maximus was a weedy, middle-aged man. His head was already balding and his hair greying. He seemed to never have smiled when he was younger, and as a result a permanent frown was etched upon his face. He was almost the complete opposite of Achilles.

The Lord General stood a head taller than most men. A fat cigar was burning in his mouth more often than not. Legend amongst the Tigers was that the General's moustache only looked so massive because of all the ash in it. The General kept his hair trimmed neatly back, but his wild eyebrows and stubble gave him a somewhat unkempt look. Beneath all that were kind brown eyes and a warm smile, whenever the General wasn't in an irritable mood. Those moods were rare lately.

His huge frame was made huger by the mantle he often wore. A symbol of his office and regiment, his cloak was made of the pelt of a savage tiger from a deathworld in a nearby system. The cloak was fastened to his carapace shoulder guards by the front paws of the beast. The pelt ended about halfway down Achilles' back, but a black cape ran down to his ankles to finish the mantle.

The mayor barely acknowledged the General's arrival.

"My Lord, a pleasure," Achilles began with the faintest of smiles, before letting his face drop. "Now get out of my chair."

"Achilles," Augustus began. "You're no doubt sur.." He was cut off by Achilles fists thudding down on his desk. Its contents jumped several centimetres, as did the mayor.

"I know why you're here," Achilles said through gritted teeth. "Now get out of my chair!" The mayor stood hastily. Achilles tried not to smile. He was in control, yet again. "You're here to tell me to leave your city. I'm here to tell you I won't."

"No good has happened since your arrival," the mayor whined.

"My arrival? Look out that window," Achilles pointed at the window behind the seat. Ivy city stretched out before it, a huge mass of high-rises. "See your city before you? Now look to the horizon.

"That's not a lightning storm over there, my _lord._ It's a war. The only thing my arrival has done, apart from quelling the Ork infestation that you never could, is stop you from being taken away in chains at the hoof of some Tau warlord.

"This raise in criminal activity is born of your inadequacy as a leader," Achilles continued. He walked over to his wargear in the corner of the room. He hefted a massive, two-handed thunder hammer and showed it to the mayor. "My men respect me, because I am a symbol of strength. Do you know how I received this hammer?" The mayor shook his head meekly. "This used to belong to an Imperial Fist. He gave it to me back when I was a Colonel, after I saved his life. He told me to use it as a symbol of honour and strength, that I may lead my men without any insubordination.

"Your subjects buck at your rule because they know you are weak, and they are scared. They know that the Tau are coming, whether you like it or not." He dropped the thunder hammer to the floor, sending a dull thud around the room. The mayor flinched. He lifted his arms.

"I need to be here. Fort Helios is the only fort within a ten-kilometre radius, and offers us a base between our eastern front and our fight with the Tau, and our western front where we're holding back Orks.

"And _you_ need me here for when your people finally revolt against you. You need me here to remind the people that the Emperor still watches over them."

Achilles stopped his lecture when he heard Augustus laughing darkly. His temper flared and was restrained yet again.

_How dare he,_ Achilles thought.

"Faithful words," Augustus spat. "Coming from a heretic."

Achilles' heart leapt into his mouth. He flicked his eyes towards his bodyguard's sergeant, Trigger. The stormtrooper shook his head quickly, calming Achilles. The mayor knew nothing; he was bluffing.

"You better check yourself, my lord." Achilles stepped towards the man, hunching himself over to make him look even more intimidating. "That's a serious allegation to make."

"You know full well what I'm talking about, General," Augustus said. "These stories of you colluding with the Eldar, sightings of hooded figures around your encampments and the disappearance of the commissar? Looks like heresy to me."

"You come into my office," Achilles said as he approached the pathetic man. "Accusing me of turning my back on the Imperium?" He threw his arms into the air. "Look at all I have done for the Imperium! More than can be said of _you_." He stood over the small man, staring into his eyes. He saw no strength there. Forcefully gesturing to the door, he said: "Now get out."

Augustus hurriedly made for the door, the General's bodyguards parting to let him pass. He half opened the door and seemed to regather his resolves when half way through it.

"What you tell me is inconsequential, Achilles," he said, turning his head towards the commander. "We shall see who the Ordo Xenos believes." He left the office.

Achilles stood frozen for a second. He looked towards Trigger. The stormtrooper stood ready and waiting for orders. Achilles grunted and snapped his fingers.

The stormtrooper snapped into action. Tapping the two men closest to him on the shoulder, he pointed at the door before charging at it with the two men in tow. Achilles also turned and walked to the door, his remaining bodyguards parting to let him pass.

He saw the mayor and his bodyguards standing waiting for the elevator at the end of the corridor. Two stormtroopers tackle the mayor's bodyguards to the ground and pinned them down. Trigger grabbed the mayor by one wrist. Stepping around the man, he wrenched the arm behind its owner's back and into a chicken wing. The lord cried out in pain. Trigger brought the man's other wrist behind his back and kicked him in the leg, bringing the man to his knees. The whole party was restrained by the time Achilles reached the scene. He pulled out the pistol at his belt and placed it under the mayor's chin.

"It would be… unwise… to bring the Inquisition into this," he threatened the lord. "Now, I suggest that you shut your mouth and return to your people. Rule them, as is your job." He plucked the cigar butt from his mouth, and jabbed the lit end into the side of the lord's neck. The man shrieked in pain. "As a reminder," he explained. "And a warning."

He nodded at Trigger, who then released the lord. He fell to the floor and writhed in pain. The two other stormtroopers released their captives, and followed Achilles who had already departed for his office. All Achilles saw before his stormtroopers closed the door behind themselves was the mayor's bodyguards helping the man to his feet.

Once back in the safety of his office, Achilles threw himself into his recliner. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, before looking up at his ten faithful bodyguards. They wore the black carapace of the Urban Tigers over their green uniforms. Unlike the Guardsmen's armour, their carapace had khaki slashes painted on it. A bronze Aquila shone proudly from their breasts. He prided himself on the quality of his men. Achilles' stormtroopers were more than just bodyguards to him; they were his advisers both politically and militarily.

"I want two men to guard the hallway. I don't want to see anyone else for now," he instructed the men. "The rest of you can see to things around the fort. Cycle your jobs as you wish. No one is to remain in this room save Trigger." The men saluted before promptly exiting the room.

Once the room had been vacated, Achilles loosed a huge sigh and reached for the glass bottle on his desk that contained a bright amber liquid. He uncorked it and reached for the glasses in a drawer under his desk.

"Want one?" he asked Trigger, who was lingering at a window. The stormtrooper silently shook his head. He was obviously lost in thought; not taking his eyes off the horizon.

Achilles grunted and took two glasses out of the drawer anyway, and began pouring the strong alcohol into them. He took one glass and placed the other at the end of his desk, before placing his heavy boots on his desk and reclining in his chair. He sipped at his drink and lit another cigar.

"What are you thinking, Jesse?" he asked Trigger. Trigger had been Achilles' personal bodyguard since his days as Colonel. 'Trigger' was just a code name; the stormtrooper's real name was Jesse Koda. He had a slimmer build than Achilles. His years of training meant that he was covered in lean, rippling muscle. His face had a strong jaw line and his skin was a dark tan colour. He had long golden hair and stark green eyes. Despite his youthful appearance, he was a veteran of a hundred battles.

"You know what I'm thinking," Jesse replied. "Just say the word and I can have that fool dispatched cleanly within the week's end."

Achilles laughed and took another healthy mouthful of his drink. "You know we can't do that. A fool he may be, but like it or not it's his position that is keeping this city from falling in on itself. If he goes under, the people will riot and that's something that I can't deal with right now. Our ranks are already stretched thin."

"And what if he calls the Inquisition?" Jesse countered. He stepped over to the desk and snatched the drink the General had poured for him. "Is _that_ something you can deal with?"

"I highly doubt the man is brazen enough to do that, given the message we just sent," Achilles said. "He cares more for his own life than he does my downfall. Besides, he's a weak enough man for me to manipulate. It's through him that I plan to maintain stability in this city. It'll just take time."

"Time's something we don't have!" Trigger shouted, slamming his now empty glass on the desk. "We need to do something _now_. I can kill the man and see to it that someone more competent is put in his place."

Achilles could see that the man was more frustrated than angry.

"I have already considered this," he said soothingly. "But any sudden political changes like that are going to cause civil unrest. For now we need to keep our alliance with the Eldar quiet. With time, this war will turn in our favour."

"What of this cult that's supposed to be forming in the city?" Trigger continued. "I've heard similar reports coming from the capital."

"During such times, it's not uncommon for such cults to be formed," Achilles said. "The desperate and the fearful are easy prey to the ruinous powers. These cults are a common occurrence and easily crushed before they amass any power. While I'm almost certain that they exist, all we have are rumours, which suggests that very little has come of it. I'll crush them once I have a firmer grip on the mayor and the city."

"So much rests on the shoulders of a foolish weakling," Trigger remarked.

"Only the lives of the people," Achilles said. "Yet it is our duty to protect the citizens of the Imperium. What good is defeating the Tau only to return to a society that has crushed itself?"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Guardsman Noah Silastar of the Urban Tigers 25****th**** Regiment**

"Stand to attention!" sergeant Samson Cutter shouted with an unnatural amount of emphasis on the last syllable. His reply was a three-hundred strong chorus of boots thudding against the ground.

Amongst them was Noah Silastar, a single man amongst many, just another grain in a sandstorm. He reflected upon his performance with pride. Four months ago, he would have turned his head to gaze at the seemingly endless ranks of recruits, wondering what they looked like, or what they were doing.

Now, he was a statue. Another part of a well oiled machine.

Officers walked between the ranks of recruits. Stopping at random, they would ask a recruit to recite their identification details, why they were here, and inspect their equipment. Four months ago, men were whipped when they stumbled over their words; beaten if their equipment wasn't perfect; imprisoned to 'reflect' why they were here.

Now, not a single man or woman erred. Each and every one of them a well maintained part or something bigger – the Urban Tigers 25th Regiment.

Three hundred and fifty men and women had enlisted in the Imperial Guard four months ago and were welcomed with open arms. Strong arms. Merciless arms. Army arms. Many of them, Noah included, had joined because they felt safer against the Tau with a lasgun in their hand. None had anticipated how rigorous their training was to be. Some hadn't made it. There was no going home, it was do or die. On hindsight, Noah knew that they needed every bit of it.

Many of them had never left Ivy city at all. Noah had no idea what to expect beyond the city's walls, but with his new arsenal of weapons and skills he felt ready to face anything.

Noah had thought they would take the recruits beyond the walls of the city for training, but he was wrong. The soon-to-be 25th regiment had spent their four months of training at a training camp in the city outskirts. Ivy city had acreage of farmland contained within its walls, and it was here that the Urban Tigers trained their city-dwelling recruits.

The training camp was spread out over a farmer's field who had generously 'given' it to the Guard. The men and women slept in groups of four in small tents. That in itself had been enough to harden him up. He was accustomed to living in his parent's apartment in the good part of town. Living outdoors was hell to him. The endless rain meant that his tent was half-flooded with mud. The powerful winds threatened to blow away the tent, and the cold was inescapable.

The worst thing was that the officers were relentless. If a tent was too untidy, the owners had to clean every tent. Should a tent blow away, it stayed away until a replacement was found a week later. The only warmth they gave you was a tiny blanket, and sleeping with other recruits was strictly prohibited. Those that were caught were never seen again.

The recruits were woken at the crack of dawn, and went to bed late in the evening. The day was full of endless obstacle courses, firing drills and medic classes. They were taught how to operate anything from a multilaser to a vox-caster.

Despite it all, Noah had made it, alongside the three hundred people around him. Fifty people either had disappeared, or didn't survive. Noah suspected that those who disappeared were dead.

Today was their last day at the training camp. By nightfall they would all have been assigned their squads and been deployed to either the fight with the Tau in the east, or the defence against the Orks in the west. Although he knew that he would soon leave the security of Ivy city's walls, he was excited to meet his new squadmates and win the war with them.

He had made few friends with the recruits – the tent groups had been cycled every four nights to give the recruits a sense of what it could be like at the front. Noah had tried to put it out of his mind, but as his training progressed and he saw himself and the other recruits transform, he began to fear the fighting less and less. He was sure his fellow guardsmen felt the same.

An officer stopped beside him. Even after four months, the officers still managed to make him nervous.

"Identify yourself, man!" the officer barked. It took Noah a second to realise that he was talking to him, even though he wasn't looking at him.

"Recruit Noah Silastar, sir!" Noah shouted out, not daring to turn his head. "Soldier number 280695, 25th Urban Tigers regiment, sir!"

"Why are you here?"

"To fight for and protect the Imperium and my home, sir!"

The officer snatched the lasgun that was sitting upright in Noah's arm. He ran his eye over it, flicking it left and right. He ejected the magazine to check that it was clean, opened and closed the sights and inspected the trigger. Once he saw that everything was to his satisfaction, he thrust the rifle back to Noah and continued along the ranks. Noah breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Half an hour passed before the inspection was complete. To mark the end of it, the Colonel himself stood upon the makeshift stage at the front of the recruits. This was unusual, however if anyone felt curious they dared not show it. They all stood their ground.

Colonel Kent Poxin was a red faced, ill tempered man with a greying moustache that ran down the sides of his mouth and ended at his jawline. He seemed always to be angry, yet he spoke with enough passion and zeal to rival the Emperor himself, Noah reckoned.

"Men, today marks your ascension into the ranks of the Imperial Guard. Soon you will be the bulwark between the Imperium and those that would overthrow her. See to it that they don't.

"In an hour, the lists telling you who your sergeant is to be will be posted up at the command tent. Two hours later you will rally with your squad leader, and half an hour after that you will be redeployed. You are now Guardsmen of the Imperial Guard. The Emperor protects."

He got off the stage.

_What an inspiration_, Noah thought to himself, wide eyed. Sergeant Samson took the stage again, crushing Noah's state of awe.

"Company, left!" he said with his unnatural emphasis on every second syllable. In unison, the company snapped around with a thud of their boots.

"Ready," the Guardsmen snapped their guns into firing position, aiming for the skies.

"Fire!" A resounding thunderclap echoed around the camp as three hundred lasguns simultaneously discharged. Half a second later an echo reached Noah's ears as the sound rebounded off the city walls.

_Such strength,_ he thought. _No one will stop us. _

An hour later, Noah was in the long line of recruits waiting to find out who their new sergeant would be. Rain drizzled down from the grey skies, splashing mud onto the recruit's boots. The single line stood in disciplined silence, yet Noah could feel a buzz of excitement.

His heart dropped when he finally saw who his sergeant was. Samson Cutter. He had hoped he would get someone more…celebrated; someone unique, like the legendary sergeant Ram, or the attractive sergeant Jane, or even served under the Colonel's own bodyguard sergeant.

But no, instead he was stuck with gruff, brooding, ill-tempered Cutter. The man seemed to take pride in disciplining the recruits without mercy. He was the man to sound the trumpet at the break of dawn. He was the man to route out any illegalities. Word was that he had killed all the recruits wanting to leave out of spite.

He could clearly picture Samson Cutter in his mind. The man had a face chiselled from rock. It never showed any emotion. His features were sharp and stern. His eyes were deep-set within his head, giving him a sinister appearance. His face was framed by a strong jaw line that was emphasised by his shallow cheeks. He kept his black hair trimmed.

He headed over to Cutter's designated area. It was a chimera at the edge of the camp. Its hull was painted with green and black stripes, with slashes of khaki along it and _Imperial Harbinger_ painted along it. He could see the huge, powerful dozer blade the Tigers had to make use of on this planet. A canopy had been extended out from the side of the tank, protecting the six guardsmen underneath from the rain. Noah joined them.

"Welcome to the squad, soldier," Samson said when Noah stepped under the canopy. He extended his hand, surprising Noah. He warily shook his sergeant's strong hand. He didn't expect such a warm gesture from Samson Cutter. "What's your name?"

"Guardsman Noah Silastar, sir!" Noah shouted, straightening his body up. "Soldier num-"

"Spare me!" Cutter shouted over the top of him, easily drowning out Noah's voice. "I only asked your name, man. I have no need for that nonsense."

Noah's face flushed red. He saw the other men stifling their laughter.

"Sorry, sir," he mumbled.

"Don't apologize, lad," Cutter said. "Now that you've… announced yourself, you should meet your squadmates."

The men introduced themselves with a warm handshake. Within minutes the rest of the squad had arrived and everyone introduced themselves. The ten man squad was comprised of five regular guardsmen, a vox caster, medic, two engineers and sergeant Cutter. They were one of the three squads with a dedicated Chimera attachment. Noah was hopeless with names, but he was sure that in time he would form lasting bonds with his fellow guardsmen.

The second everyone was acquainted, Cutter called for silence. Noah groaned to himself.

_This guy never stops,_ he thought.

"Alright gents," Cutter said. "And ladies," he corrected himself with a slight nod towards the two women in the squad – one of who was an engineer, the other a monstrosity of a guardsman. "We've the _honour_ of heading west and protecting the sector from the Orks. I want the Chimera loaded and prepared for travel by the time I return."

With that, he turned his heel in the slushy mud and walked off into the chilling sheets of rain, chin held high.

_Arrogant prick,_ Noah thought. It would take more than the vice of war for him to form a friendship with Sergeant Cutter.

Ten minutes later, the Chimera's canopy had been stowed and the squad sat inside the tank. The tanks powerful engines were idling, awaiting the sergeants arrival. It had a larger inside than Noah anticipated. The squad sat on canvas benches that ran along the outside of the tank, leaving a large space in the centre. The Guardsmen had stowed their kits under their seats. Above their heads were mounted lasguns. The tanks engine gave much needed warmth to its passengers.

Sergeant Cutter suddenly appeared out of the grey rain and thudded the button to close the rear door. As the gangway raised, he looked over the silent cabin.

"Can't tell if it's colder out there or in here," He said. "Ya'll going to be living each other for an indefinite amount of time, you best get to know one another." He strode to the opposite end of the cabin and shooed a man out of the Chimera's turret seat at the head of the group.

Noah was surprised at how the sergeant's presence seemed to break the ice between the squadmates. He turned to his left and introduced himself to the engineer woman beside him as the Chimera pulled out of the camp that had been his home for four months. He barely listened as the woman introduced herself. He was too distracted by his anticipation for the fight ahead of him.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Sir Achilles Venator, Lord General of the Urban Tigers**

Night was falling over Fort Helios. Sir Achilles Venator was alone in his office, his feet up on his massive desk. A crystal glass of harsh amber liquid was in his hand, and a fat cigar in his mouth. He was content, for the first time in weeks. The day had gone smoothly. There were no riots to quell, no disastrous reports from the front, and someone had even cheered for him as he drove through Ivy City. Even the poor excuse for a mayor hadn't bothered him all day. It seemed as though things were finally turning around.

And then, a knock on his door.

The faint smile behind Achilles' moustache dropped. Sighing, he drained his glass in one gulp.

"Enter," he called. Trigger stepped through the door, his rifle slung over his back and his helmet by his side. His long golden hair was swept back. Normally Achilles wouldn't tolerate long hair on his men, but Jesse Koda was more a friend than an insubordinate to the General. "You're lucky I've had five of these," Achilles said, waving the empty glass towards the Sergeant. "Give me the good news."

"You may need another glass," Jesse grimaced, placing his helmet on the desk and helping himself to a glass of the liquor. He pulled up a chair while Achilles waited patiently. Jesse liked to stall while he prepared to break bad news to the General. "A call came over the radio fifteen minutes ago," Jesse said before draining his glass. "The Ordo Xenos are in orbit."

The glass in Achilles' hand shattered as it closed into a fist. The room was silent as he stared beyond Jesse. Slowly, Achilles' expression turned from shock to rage. He thudded his fist onto his desk.

"_Damn_ him!" He roared. "That incompetent, pathetic, _coward_ will be the death of this whole sector!" He smashed both fists into his desk. The impressive furniture didn't sway underneath Achilles' onslaught, but its contents were all knocked over.

Achilles took a deep breath, reigning in his anger. He strode over to his armoured mannequin and began arming himself.

"I think we should pay him a visit," he said to Trigger as he barrelled towards the door. "Rally the troupes to rendezvous at the Chimera in 5 minutes, I want-"

"We're meeting the mayor, Achilles," Trigger cut in, stoping Achilles at the door. "Not a daemon. I'll get the squad, that's all we need. We don't want to make a scene."

The General relaxed and sighed.

"You're right. We leave as soon as possible."

The Chimera's cabin was silent as the vehicle drove through Ivy City. Achilles and his bodyguard were fully armed and sat in silence. The Lord General sat at the head of the group, planning what he was going to say to the mayor. He hoped that his quick response to the news of the Inquisition's arrival meant that they would still be in orbit, or perhaps at the airfield. He planned on confronting the mayor before the fool had a chance to alert the Ordo Xenos of the Tigers' alliance, even though all the man had heard were stories and rumours.

Achilles was meditating on the impending confrontation when the transport slowed to a halt. He heard raised voices outside the cabin.

_We must have arrived,_ he thought to himself. He stood up in the cabin, having to hunch over thanks to his massive frame. He opened the tank's turret hatch and stood into the light.

What he saw enraged him.

They had indeed arrived. They were at the mayor's manor towards the centre of Ivy City. A large, dense, green parkland surrounded the house where the mayor supposedly ran the city and surrounding towns. Atop the large hill in the centre of the property was the mayor's manor. A large fence encircled the property. The only way through the fence was by the gate through which the driveway passed. It was this gate that the Chimera had stopped at.

A roadblock had been set up at the gate. Several of the mayor's militia stood motionless in front of the Chimera, autoguns aimed at Achilles. A thin metal wall had been erected across the gate, preventing vehicles from going in or out without the soldier's permission.

"What in the Emperor's name is the meaning of this?" Achilles shouted.

"The mayor denies anyone entry to these premises," came the reply.

"I don't give a damn what the mayor denies," Achilles roared. "Move out of the way!"

"If you proceed you will be detained!"

"You can't detain the Imperial Guard, now move or be crushed."

"Sir," the driver's voice piped up on the intercom in Achilles' ear. "They've set up a barricade, we-"

"By the Emperor, you're driving a damned _tank_, man" Achilles bellowed, loud enough for the driver to hear him without the intercom. "Drive _over_ it."

The Generals rage must have frightened the driver into action, for as soon as Achilles finished speaking the tank surged forward. The defending soldiers stood their ground until the tank crushed their barricade with ease. Most ran at that point, but several remained with their sights trained on the General. All save one dashed away moments before the Chimera was upon them. The one that didn't died valiantly with a scream as he was crushed by the tank's dozer blade. Achilles didn't flinch an inch as the man's death cries reached his ears, and the tank didn't slow its progress. He heard a man shout "After them!" as the tank drove towards the manor.

The tank stopped in front of the manor's double doors. The Chimera's rear door lowered and the Achilles' men ran out of it. They came under fire as soon as they ran out of the tank. The men from the barricade were running up the hill, wildly shooting in the general direction of the tank. Instinctively the stormtroopers put the Chimera between themselves and their attackers. Achilles joined them.

"I want four of you to remain here, the rest come with me," Achilles ordered. "There will probably be more men inside. These boys are green and have no idea what they're dealing with, and more importantly they're citizens of the Imperium. Don't kill them unless you absolutely have to. I'm going to sort things out with the mayor before this situation with the Inquisition gets any worse."

The General then walked briskly to the manor's entrance, six stormtroopers including Trigger running in front of him. They kicked in the door and shot at the legs of the ten soldiers they caught unawares in the lobby within seconds of breaching the room. The group then made a dash for the grand staircase at the end of the room. They all knew the layout of the building; the General had been here several times before to make negotiations with the mayor.

They rounded a corner into the hallway that the mayor's office was in. Two men stood guard on either side of the door. Before they could react, two stormtroopers had shouldered them into the wall behind them, knocking the wind out of them and sending them to the floor. Achilles' stormtroopers stacked up on either side of the office's doors. The Lord General kicked the door in himself and strode into the room, while his stormtroopers poured in on either side behind him, scanning the room.

The mayor's office was much smaller than Achilles. It had a delicate wooden desk in the middle of the room and was lined with wooden shelving. Two narrow windows were on the wall behind the desk. One was open, making some loose papers float around the room. The mayor's high-backed chair was facing away from the men, and Achilles could see the mayor's arm casually dangling over the armrest.

"You know why I'm here," Achilles began calmly, placing the head of his hammer on the floor with a dull thud, and leaning on its tip. "You've done more damage than you realise by calling the Inquisition."

The mayor didn't answer. Achilles' temper flared but he restrained it.

"You know, getting to you was easier than I anticipated," he continued. "Then again, you're not part of the military. You don't know how to fight."

The General smacked his hand on the mayor's desk, frightening the various objects on it. The mayor didn't react.

"You're starting more fights than you know what to do with! The Inquisition should still be a few minutes away, we need to resolve this before they get involved and make an already dire situation even worse."

Achilles' only reply was silence.

"Answer me!" the General shouted, hitting the back of the mayor's chair with enough force to knock it over. The mayor fell out of the chair and lay on the ground motionless.

It took Achilles a moment to notice the thin red line across the man's throat. He was dead. A shockwave of unease shot its way throughout the room.

_Holy Throne,_ he thought with a pang of dread. He could sense the restlessness of his stormtroopers. His mind went reeling. What was he going to do now? How could he explain this to the Ordo Xenos? His thoughts were interrupted by a scream at the door. He looked over his shoulder to see a maid at the door, looking at the body of her former master. Her eyes were wide with fear.

_Just what I need,_ Achilles thought as he turned his head back to examine the body. "Somebody shut her up," he said.

He heard heavy footfalls approaching the room. The screaming maid must have alerted some of the mayor's militia. Achilles remained where he was; he was surrounded by some of the most competent warriors in the whole sector. They could dispatch a group of militia three times their size without breaking a sweat. There was little he need fear.

However, as soon as he heard the massive crash behind him, he knew that no ordinary men had entered the room. He whirled around to see four giants clad in black power armour in the room. The wall where the door once stood had been virtually destroyed where the intruders had barged in.

The four Deathwatch Marines had detained Achilles' stormtroopers. One had pinned a man against the wall, two more Marines had men pinned under their boots, and the fourth Marine had two men in a headlock. After a quick head count, Achilles realised that one of his men was missing. Trigger must have escaped in all the commotion.

_Sly bastard,_ he thought to himself with a faint smile. Three bolters were aimed at his head. He dropped his thunder hammer to the floor and uncuffed his wrist mounted storm bolter.

"Wise move, General," a man said as he approached Achilles. He was not an Astartes, but rather a regular man. He wore a dark green greatcoat that had golden patterns all over it. Achilles could see heavy carapace beneath the greatcoat, and the symbol of the Inquisition on the massive pendant that hung from the man's neck. There was a boltpistol holstered at the man's hip, and he walked on a cane that Achilles had no doubt doubled as a power weapon.

"You're no doubt aware that I've been called in to investigate claims that you and your regiment have been colluding with xenos," the young Inquisitor said with a faint smile. His condescending manner complimented his slicked back, black hair and youthful clean shaven face. Stark green eyes that complimented the man's greatcoat stared at Achilles. "We arrived in orbit several minutes ago and the mayor welcomed us with open arms, calling us to meet with him…"

He gestured towards the mayor's dead body with open arms.

"…and look at what we're met with. A fire fight at the door, and our host murdered. I'm sure you can appreciate how this looks to me, _Lord_ General."

"All is not how it appears," Achilles said through gritted teeth.

"It never is," the Inquisitor replied calmly. He spun on his heel and made for the door, or what was left of it. "Arrest him."

A Space Marine stepped towards the general and raised his bolter.

_By the Emperor, you better make it, Koda._ He thought to himself moments before being knocked unconscious by the butt of the gun.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Guardsman Noah Silastar of the Urban Tigers 25****th**** Regiment**

There was a buzz of excitement around the Outpost this afternoon. The 25th Regiment had been called to rally in the main hall in thirty minutes. That alone was enough to excite the Guardsman occupying the outpost, as for the past two weeks their lives had been nothing but performing maintenance, drills, beating back the persistent flora, trying to stay warm and sitting around trying to pass time.

The Western Post, more often simply called the 'Outpost', was nothing more than a few buildings atop a mound. It consisted of the dorms, where all the Guardsmen were housed; the main hall, where everyone dined; a garage for the few Chimeras and Sentinels the 25th possessed; and the tall communications array. The Outpost was encircled by an armoured wall.

For the past two weeks, Guardsman Noah's life had been much less glorifying than he had expected life in the Guard to be. The only good thing to come from his incarceration was that he had managed to become good friends with many of his squadmates.

Closest out of all his friends were Kara Obellon, Vincent Thornton and Jack Osborne. Jack was a regular Guardsman like Noah, and was with him virtually all the time. Kara and Vincent were engineers, and spent much of their duties away from the squad, serving under the Outpost's Enginseer, but the group managed to spend their free time together.

Noah hadn't had much direct contact with Sergeant Samson Cutter, but had come to resent the man less. He knew how to run a squad. Indeed, it seemed as though he ran every squad in the Outpost, as everyone either respected or feared him.

However, as influential as Cutter was, even he had no idea the cause for the rally this morning. Noah could tell that this annoyed the man by the way he had informed the squad of the rally earlier and his sour mood.

Once the whole Regiment had crammed itself into the main hall, the Colonel stepped up to the podium at the front of the hall and raised his hand for silence.

The room fell silent, yet still hummed with anticipation.

It seemed like hours before the Colonel opened his mouth to speak.

"Early this morning," he began, choosing his words carefully. "A scout party returned, reporting a massive Ork horde heading for us."

The energy in the room rose. This was the regiment's chance to prove themselves.

"The horde is of an unprecedented size and is expected to hit us and several other outposts tomorrow morning. I'm sure you will all remember your duty and honour the Emperor as we stand and fight."

A door slammed at the rear of the hall. Noah turned to see Samson Cutter storm out of the hall and into the rain that just began.

"We will fight for the Emperor and the Imperium, in the name of the Lord General!" The Colonel continued, undeterred and inspiring the men. "Now is the time to prove your worth! Prepare for battle!"

The Colonel stiffly threw his fist into the air, and was met with a great roar from the Regiment.

"Dismissed!"

The rest of the day had been spent readying the Outpost for battle. Guardsmen had packed their kits. The Enginseer, aided by the various engineers amongst the Regiment, had prepped the vehicles, and heavy armaments had been installed along the Outpost's walls. Several scout parties had been sent forwards to track the Orks movement.

Once the Outpost was ready, the men had been ordered to rest up before the fight. Noah found himself lying on his bunk in his dorm, with Kara Vince and Jack. Most of his squad was resting in the dorm, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Carlos, the squad's medic and self appointed cook, was sitting in the corner making a brew for the squad. Everyone liked the burly old man, who was quiet and caring despite his stoic exterior. Noah studied the man and wondered what made him so generous.

"You sure you don't want one?" Noah was interrupted from his thoughts by the hand dangling in front of him. Vincent was lying on the bunk above Noah, and was relentlessly offering him cigarettes to 'soothe his nerves'.

"No, thanks," Noah replied. He had been withstanding Vincent's assault for almost an hour.

"He doesn't want to get as greasy as you," Kara said from across the room. Vincent indeed was an oily man, and his gaunt appearance was made worse by his lanky body. A mop of thin black hair covered his head, and a dark shadow ran along his jaw line. He had dark, deep-set eyes. His dark features were only broken by the pearly white smile that he often wore. Noah knew that he was smiling right now; he could hear it in his voice.

"That Sentinel basically pissed oil over you after you damaged the sump," Vincent shot back. "You'll have oil oozing out of you for a week."

"Yeah well-" Kara began before getting cut off by a huge groan.

"Shut up you guys," Jack moaned from the bunk above Kara. "Unlike you, I want to be refreshed for the fight tomorrow."

Jack was truly a fine human specimen. He stood a head taller than Noah, was heavily built and had a face that could seduce a daemonette. A dark brown crew cut complimented his strong green eyes that sat beneath a heavy brow. He was the kind of guardsman the Imperium put on propaganda posters. The kind of soldier women fantasized over. The kind of man that men envied; and he knew it.

"We've plenty of time for sleep yet," Carlos said, bringing four steaming mugs over. "Let's keep the good time alive as long as we can, eh? Get some of this into you, it'll keep you going for a week, I guarantee."

Noah took a gulp of the warm liquid. His whole body instantly felt warmer. He held the mug close to his face to warm it up.

"Still," Jack continued. "I want all my wits about me."

Carlos laughed. "I'm sure you'll have enough wits about you when you need them. Besides, what goods a night of nightmares going to do you?"

"You scared big man?" Jack teased. Carlos turned from handing out mugs to stare at the youth.

"Don't be so quick to assume, boy," he said, not unkindly. "When you've been around as long as I, you know when and when not to be afraid."

A shadow passed over Jack's haughty face.

"You don't know what I've seen," he muttered. The room went still. "I'm not afraid of war, but I've seen damned well enough it to know that I _need _to be prepared."

A faint, warm smile broke across Carlos's face.

"Relax, lad," he said soothingly. "That brew will help you sleep. Drink."

Like a disciplined child, Jack took a tentative sip of the drink. Then another, and another after that. With each gulp the unease in the air lifted slightly.

"You're trying to get me drunk," Jack said, waving the empty mug for everyone to see. Everyone laughed, breaking the tension in the room. Everyone was back to normal, and the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

Noah laughed too, but still felt an uneasy. He saw something in Jack's eyes that unnerved him. He got off his bed and headed for the door with his mug.

"Just need some fresh air," he explained to no one in particular.

Noah found himself walk outside. His feet carried him towards the _Imperial Harbinger._ The night was unusually clear. There were no clouds to stop the stars lighting up the sky. A chilly breeze cut at his face, so he turned up his collar and held his mug closer.

He came to a halt in front of the harbinger. The massive dozer blade was as tall as he was, and scarred from use. He stood there a moment, catching his breath. He hadn't realised he was so worked up until now.

_Am I scared?_ He asked himself. _I can't be, I've had so much training. We all have, we're too strong to lose._

A cough tore Noah away from his thoughts. He looked up past the Chimera's dozer blade to see Sergeant Cutter lying on top of the Chimera. A cloud of smoke hovered over his face.

Noah instinctively saluted the officer and stood to attention.

"At ease, soldier," Cutter said without even looking at him. "_Emperor damn it,_" Noah heard the sergeant mutter to himself. "What brings you here?"

"I don't know," Noah replied meekly. "I was just thinking; about the fight tomorrow."

"You mean the slaughter?" Cutter snorted as he sat up to look at the young Guardsman.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you never seen the Guard fight when incompetents are in Command?" Cutter said, staring at Noah as he smoked his cigar. A glass bottle stood next to him on the hull of the _Harbinger_. "This Ork horde that's coming, it's massive. We've no hope of holding the line, you lot are only a fortnight out of training, by the Throne. We ought to retreat back and reinforce a fort further down the line."

"You think we're going to lose?"

"I know it. Command know it. The experienced know it. Why else do you think they have Valkyries coming in tomorrow?"

Fear struck Noah like a punch to the gut. He started pacing back and forth.

"So what's going to happen? We're all going to die? Is this what they trained us for?"

Cutter jumped down from atop the Chimera and grabbed Noah by the shoulders.

"Focus soldier!" he shouted, looking Noah square in the eyes. "You're not going to die. The Valykrie's will land when all hell breaks loose, so no one thinks that Command is abandoning them before the fight.

"That will be our chance. I need you focussed tomorrow. Don't worry about what _might _happen. Just keep your eyes on me. When the jets land, that will be our cue to leave. We'll take the _Harbinger _to the closest fort and fight from there."

"What about everyone else?" Noah asked, dreading Cutter's response.

"They'll be looking out for each other. Every Sergeant knows what's going to happen tomorrow. Those who have dedicated Chimeras will come with us. Those that don't will make a break for the Valkyries, or load up in other Chimeras."

"Does Command know about this?" Noah asked, feeling slightly reassured. Cutter laughed harshly and turned back towards the _Harbinger_.

"Those fools hardly know what's going on amongst themselves, let alone the Regiment. They'll most likely be killed tomorrow. Insubordination has been rife throughout the Tigers since the Commissar was murdered. Turns out a lot of good is coming from it; the Tigers are producing a new breed of officer. Incompetent commanders don't last long before a lasround finds its way through their chest." He placed his finger on Noah's chest for emphasis. "Its grisly work, to be sure, but it makes us stronger.

"Anyway, dawn is about eight hours away. I suggest you get some rest," Cutter concluded. He climbed back onto the Chimera and lay down, ending the conversation.

Noah turned and headed back towards the dorm. His sergeant had given him a lot to think about. Once, he had thought that Command were the only things standing between the Guard and annihilation. Now, he didn't know what was keeping them alive. For the first time in his life, he doubted the strength of the Imperial Guard. Since day one in training, it had been drilled into him that his superiors were always right and knew what they were doing, but now he just felt like a puppet.

Everyone was asleep when he reached his dorm. Trying not to wake anyone, h walked quietly through the room and tucked himself into his bed. Before he had time to begin worrying about the impending battle, he was asleep.

A war horn blasted across the valley that the Outpost stood guard over. Noah turned his gaze towards the source of the sound on top of the large wall around the Outpost. The only man on the wall was the Enginseer. He alone manned the dozens of turrets atop the wall. Noah marvelled at the man who had so much machinery attached to him that it made him appear as big as a Space Marine. The Techpriests of the Urban Tigers were few, but their skill was rivalled only by the Tiger's Stormtroopers.

A second blast rolled across the valley. Noah's heart jumped into his mouth. Two blasts meant the Orks were on the other side of the valley.

"Attention!" Cutter shouted. The squad straightened themselves in a line next to the _Harbinger_. Other squads ran throughout the camp. The camp was mostly empty. Many of the infantry squadrons were at the front line. Noah could hear the _crack_ of lasguns from the other side of the wall. Several of the Enginseer's turrets had joined the fray.

"Our job is simple; we're to tank shock the horde before they get to our men. It's our job to drive them down, retreat and repeat. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the squad replied in unison.

"Mount up!" The squad quickly ran into the hull of the Chimera. The tank fired up its engines and lurched out of the courtyard, four other Chimeras following.

Noah's jaw dropped when he saw what awaited them. From inside the Chimera he could see the valley before him. The Guard had set up a firing line on their crest of the valley and were mowing down the Ork stampede. Orks dropped volley after volley, yet still they poured into the valley. They had managed to push themselves to the base of the valley and were beginning to head towards the Guard's lines.

The Chimeras lined themselves up next to each other on the crest of the valley. Samson Cutter wired himself up to the Chimera's vox system, amplifying his voice.

"Charge!" he shouted.

In unison, the five tanks surged forwards and hurtled down the valley. Noah clutched at his mounted turret, his palms slippery with sweat. Adrenaline pumped through his body, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

The _Harbinger _hit the Ork line with a sickening _crunch_. The dozer blade pushed crushed Ork bodies aside. The Chimera pushed itself into the Orkish throng. Despite the tank shock, the Orks still passed the Chimera like water passes a rock. Noah fired his turret into the sea of green, but it seemed to do nothing. Some Orks ran on top of the tank and tried to bash their way in, but try as they might they couldn't penetrate the tank's skin.

"Pull back!" Sergeant Cutter shouted.

The Chimeras put their engines into reverse and withdrew from the mob, throwing themselves back up the valley. It wasn't until they were back up the valley that Noah finally saw the damage they had dealt, and it took him by surprise.

The charging Chimeras had amassed huge piles of green bodies. The Orks now had to run between the mounds of their fallen comrades. They had effectively been bottlenecked. The Enginseer unleashed the fury of his turrets on the choke points, while the line of Guardsmen picked off any Orks that climbed over the mounds or made it through.

"Charge left!"

The Chimera lurched forwards again, charging back into the Orks to the left of their last charge. After creating more chokepoints, they pulled back.

"Charge right!"

They charged again. By now, Noah's doubts had vanished. At the rate they were going, they would be able to hold the line without losing a single man. He was safe in the Chimera, and the men on the line safe while the Chimeras were in the fight.

His heart dropped when he heart Cutter swear.

"Pull back!" He cried, half way into a charge. "Back, damnit!"

Noah wondered what had put Cutter on edge. He wasn't wondering for long however, when he felt the shockwave of an explosion pass through the cabin.

"Squiggoth!"

Ork bodies hammered down on the Chimera and fire passed through the horde. It took Noah a moment to realise that the Chimera next to the _Harbinger_ had blown up. Panic gripped at Noah's chest. He didn't know what a Squiggoth was, but he was sure that he didn't want to see one anytime soon.

The _Harbinger _managed to pull itself out of the Ork horde. Two more Chimeras had exploded by the time they made it out. Noah could see three plumes of smoke within the horde. He saw half a Guardsman fly towards the human lines. He thanked the Emperor that he was still alive.

But he thanked the Emperor too soon.

A huge explosion on the other side of the Chimera sent the tank flying across the valley. The cabin wall opposite Noah was ripped off, taking half the squad with it. Noah rolled with the other half of the Chimera until it stopped. He lay there for a second, dazed after hitting his head.

"Get up!" someone shouted at him. A smack to the face brought him back to focus. "Up!" Kara was kneeling near him. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him up. Noah's head was spinning. All he saw around him was green. Green from the Orks. Green from the plants. Green from the Guardsmen. He had no idea where he was.

A strong hand clamped around his shoulder.

"Keep your head down and follow my boots!" Samson Cutter shouted into his ear, before storming off and dragging Kara by her arm. Kara pulled Noah along.

Suddenly, Kara was torn from the centre of the group. A huge green brute had managed to wade through a volley of lasrounds and caught up with the flailing Guardsmen.

The Ork grabbed Kara by her narrow waist and yanked her from between Noah and Cutter with enough strength to knock them both over. The Ork gutted Kara with the tip of its cruel sword and threw her broken body of its shoulder with a victory roar.

The sight of his friend being murdered snapped Noah back into consciousness. He screamed with fear and desperately crawled backwards away from the Ork.

Noah's weakness seemed only to anger the Ork brute. His scream drew the Ork's attention. The monster advanced on Noah. It slashed at him. Instinctively, Noah raised his right leg in a pathetic attempt to block the attack. The Ork's blade lodged itself below Noah's knee. Noah's vision went white and he screamed in agony.

He was sure his life was over until another body entered the fray. The guardsman that was a monstrosity of a woman threw herself at the Ork, pushing the beast away from the downed Noah.

He watched in horror as the beast roared in fury at the woman, before punching her face so hard that it imploded and her head snapped back with a _crunch_. The woman fell and the Ork strode towards Noah, reaching for its sword that was embedded in Noah's leg.

Suddenly the Ork dropped to one knee. Sergeant Cutter stepped around from behind the beast, his power sword crackling with energy. He slashed at the Ork's throat and chest, before unloading several rounds into its face. The beast finally slumped over with a groan.

Without speaking, Samson reached for Noah and dragged him by the elbow towards the Guard's line. Noah was fading in and out of consciousness, but he knew that something had scattered the Orks. The whole battlefield was broken into smaller skirmishes. Fire was everywhere.

He saw a Valkyrie do a strafing run on a dense pack of Orks, scattering them. He finally understood what was happening. The Valkyries had arrived and scattered the Orks, but it had not been enough to stop them from reaching the human lines.

He saw Cutter cut and shoot his way through several orks. He saw some Guardsmen fighting for their lives, others fighting to get to a Vaylkrie. Several of them had landed and were providing covering fire as Guardsmen scrambled aboard. He looked up to see the Enginseer valiantly holding his post, but even he wouldn't last long as the Orks threw themselves at him.

Miraculously, Samson Cutter managed to drag him to a Valkyrie. He threw the wounded Guardsman on board. Noah looked back at the battlefield. There weren't many humans left on the field; they were either dead or on a Valkyrie. He saw a new wave or Orks appear on the other side of the valley. Amongst the horde he spotted several armoured, hulking beasts almost ten metres tall. Without asking he knew that they were the Squiggoths that had broken the Guard's defence.

Still fading in and out of consciousness, Noah felt the Valkyrie finally lift off of the ground. He turned his gaze towards Cutter to see him shouting at a finely dressed man with various medals on his breast. He couldn't hear anything, but he could tell that the man was the Colonel.

The men's argument reached a climax and Cutter drew his pistol and shot the Colonel in the leg. He picked the man up by the scruff of his neck and said something to his pale white face before throwing him out of the Valkyrie and into the Ork horde below.

Then, Noah blacked out.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Jesse Koda, Lord General's Retinue Squad Sergeant 'Trigger'**

All Jesse Koda had done for the past few days was move. He knew that it wouldn't take the Inquisition long to realise that Achilles' captain was missing, and they wouldn't hesitate deploying a full-scale search team. He had moved from place to place, trying to keep a low profile. He'd steal what money he could during the day to hire out a room for the night.

As soon as he heard the heavy boots coming towards the room, he knew that no normal men were about to enter the room. He had made a dash for the window seconds before the Deathwatch burst into the room. He had fallen from the first storey of the house, rolled on the grass and dashed for the woodlands. No one had seen him leave. He'd left his gear at a nearby barracks so he could walk around the city without arousing suspicion.

Since then, he had gone from being one of the most influential men in the sector to becoming a ghost. He knew that big changes were about to hit the Tigers, and that he had to adapt. Fast.

He knew that he couldn't lie low forever. No matter how well he covered his tracks, eventually the Inquisition would find him in Ivy City. He needed a plan of attack, and he had nowhere to start but the death of the mayor.

_Who would want the man dead?_ He asked himself as he sat in the tiny room he had rented for the night. It consisted of nothing more than a hard bed and flimsy desk. A narrow window let a sliver of moonlight into the room.

It was a question he had asked himself non stop since seeing the old man's corpse. _Obviously someone who's trying to derail the Tigers._

He punched the wall in frustration, putting a hole in it. He'd been asking himself the same question for days now, and always the same answer. He took a deep breath.

He was playing a waiting game. The day Achilles had been arrested, he had gotten into contact with one of the few Eldar in Ivy City. The Eldar that lived in the city were mostly outcasts, but still provided an easy way for the Eldar to keep an eye on their human allies.

The particular Elf that Jesse had come into contact with was a drunken mess. He was a means to an end. The wretched creature drowned itself in the most potent of human spirits, and it had taken a lot of bribery and coercion for Jesse to get the xeno to get into contact with the elf that Jesse wanted.

The Ringmaster.

Or so he was called. To Jesse he was known by his name: Kaldeer. He was the leader of the harlequin troupe that called this sector their home. Kaldeer was the Eldar's top inside eye. He was effectively the Eldar's equivalent of Jesse himself.

Jesse was in a vulnerable position, and he knew that Kaldeer knew it. Despite their alliance with the Tigers, the Elder were as fickle as always, and Jesse didn't know wether to trust Kaldeer or not.

Tonight was the night that some of his questions would find answers. He was meeting back with the elf he had sent to fetch Kaldeer. If all went to plan, he would be in contact with the Ringmaster in days.

He decided he needed to get some rest before the rendezvous. He stepped across the tiny room and lay down atop the rock hard mattress in the corner of the room.

Jesse woke himself with a jolt. He quickly got up and looked out the window. It was just past midnight, judging by the position of the moon. Pulling his cloak far over his face, he placed a bronze coin on the desk and left the room.

The night air was frigid, made worse by the rain that was drizzling down. He set off down the dark street towards the agreed location.

After navigating the dark alleyways and making sure no one was following him, he arrived at his destination. It was a dimly lit crossroads. He stood across from a tavern, under a flickering streetlamp. He had chosen this destination in the hope that two humanoids talking outside a bar wasn't too suspicious, but much was suspicious these days.

He wasn't waiting long when he saw a cloaked figure hurriedly walking towards him. The figure came up to Jesse and leaned on the same lamppost as he was.

"You weren't followed?" Jesse asked, hardly moving his lips.

"I um, I don't think so?" The xeno replied, sounding uncertain.

"Turn up your collar so no one can see your mouth," Jesse said sternly. "Look like you're cold."

The elf did so.

"Did you contact him?" Jesse asked.

"Kaldeer?" The elf asked, too loudly. It took Jesse all of his willpower not to hit the alien.

"_Yes,_ Kaldeer," Jesse said through gritted teeth. "Who else? Don't say his name again. What did he say?"

The xeno reached for his pocket, but Jesse stopped him with a hiss.

"You'll look too obvious," he said. "Let me get it." Faking a smile, he clapped the eldar on the shoulder, as though he had made a joke. He slipped his other hand into the xeno's pocket and snatched out the scrap of paper in it. As he pulled it out he managed a quick glimpse at what was scrawled on it. The transaction took two seconds.

_Ivy City Webway Gate_.

"Do I look like a fool?" Jesse hissed. "There's no Gate in Ivy City."

"T-t-trust me, there is," The elf stuttered. "Follow the directions on the back, Kal- I mean- he's there tonight waiting for you. Now do you have my payment? I haven't had a drink in days I feel like…"

Jesse was only half listening to the flailing alien though. Movement in one of the windows behind the elf, a few doors down, had caught his eye.

"Uh yeah, sure," he said as he shuffled his position, putting the alien between him and the window.

Suddenly the elf's chest exploded all over Jesse.

_Bolters,_ Jesse realised as soon as he saw the way the alien's chest exploded. A look of horror was frozen on his face as he came to realise what had happened to his chest.

The Eldar fell.

And was caught by Jesse's arm around his neck.

_They cannot find an Eldar corpse here,_ Jesse thought to himself. He dashed towards the closest alleyway, yanking the corpse along. He heard the distant crash of a door being kicked in.

He was being chased. By monsters that were bigger, faster and stronger than him. He needed to get rid of this body and disappear as fast as he could.

He dashed through alleyways, trying to lose his pursuers among the complex grid of Ivy City.

It must have been working to some extent, as he heard someone shout "Split up and find him!"

He smiled to himself. The voice sounded frustrated, and now Jesse had the upper hand.

Divide and conquer.

He ran down another alleyway, looking for the perfect place to set his trap. As he was running he found it.

The alley he was running down had a small courtyard off to the side with barred windows looking in on it. Large, wheeled rubbish bins littered the yard. Moving quickly, Jesse dumped the broken body in the middle of the courtyard.

_I can't put the body in a bin; it'll be found sooner or later,_ he told himself as he set up his trap. He ripped off his bloodied cloak and threw it over the corpse, before wheeling a bin out of the courtyard and into a position that he could hide behind it without having his pursuer see him.

He settled into his hiding place behind the bin, drew his combat blade, and waited.

It didn't take long for him to hear the heavy footfalls of a Space Marine coming up the alley. He tried to regulate his ragged breathing; he knew a Marine would be able to hear him if he breathed too loud. He thanked the Emperor that it was raining hard enough to cover the sound of his beating heart.

The footfalls slowed to a halt, metres from Jesse's position.

"I've found something," The Marine reported.

Jesse heard the feet slowly move towards the corpse. Now was his chance. As quietly as he could, he drew a deep breath and held it. Ducking out from behind the bin, he rounded the corner to see the hulking black armour of a Deathwatch Marine crouching over the corpse, examining it. He'd placed his boltpistol on the ground next to him so he could use his hand to uncover the body.

Jesse advanced towards the pistol, but just as he was reaching for it the Marine heard him and turned to face him. As soon as he saw the Stormtrooper, he lit up his power sword and slashed at him. The strike was about to cleave Jesse in half.

However, unfortunately for the Marine, this is exactly what Jesse was anticipating. He stepped inside the blow, towards the Astartes, and thrust his combat blade at the Marine's wrist.

This thrust, coupled with the force of the Marine's swing, allowed the blade to pierce the softer armour between the power plates. The Astartes shouted in pain and dropped his sword, but Jesse knew that it wouldn't stop the juggernaut for long.

He followed the thrust through by reaching for the pistol. He lifted the heavy weapon and blindly fired several shots point blank at the Marine's chest.

The first shot cracked the Marine's armour, and after a few more blood started pooling on the ground. He fired a bolt through the Marine's neck, and the kneeling giant slumped over.

His heart still hammering, Jesse unloaded the rest of the pistol on the Eldar's corpse. The explosive ammunition pulverised the body until it was no more than a scattered pile of gore – completely unrecognizable.

He knew he had seconds before the rest of the Deathwatch arrived on the scene, drawn to the commotion like moths to the moon. Hefting the fallen Marine's sword in both hands, he slashed it through the barred window in front of him. The energised blade passed through the metal and smashed the glass. Jesse threw himself inside as he heard heavy footfalls at the end of the alleyway. He left the sword behind; it was too cumbersome to flee with.

He landed in a small, dirty bathroom. Not caring for his surroundings, he shouldered his way through the door and into a narrow hallway.

_They'll have trouble fitting in here_, he thought to himself with a smirk. He dashed down the corridor. One of the flat's occupants burst through a doorway to confront the commotion. He prepared to fight when he saw Jesse running towards him, but before he knew it he was lying on the floor, watching Jesse run out of his house.

He burst through the front door onto yet another dark street. He heard his hunters smash through the other side of the building. Screams followed, and someone bellowed "Arrest them!"

Jesse didn't hesitate dashing across the street into another alleyway. As he ran, he pulled the scrap of paper he'd taken from the dead elf. On the back were several street names that lead to the supposed Gate in the city.

Adjusting his course slightly, he made for the location.

After several minutes of running, he was sure he had lost his tail. He hadn't heard any commotions, and he hadn't left any tracks. But he wasn't stupid enough to lower his guard; he was dealing with Orks or the Tau anymore. The Deathwatch were a whole new league.

_My league_.

He was feeling safer and safer, until he ran across the second last street marked on the paper –

And straight into a spotlight.

The brilliant light dazzled him.

"There!" Someone cried. A sudden adrenaline rush snapped Jesse into action. He broke for an especially narrow alley just as someone fired shots at him.

_They're trying to kill me! _He realised with a shock.

He kept running down the alleyway until he came to a narrow bridge that crossed another street. A smile broke across Jesse's face as he realised that this was the street the Gate was supposed to be on.

He jumped from the bridge and landed heavily on the cobblestone street. The street was narrow, but that wasn't unusual in Ivy City. Highrise apartments with blacked out windows lined the street. Dozens of bridges crossed the long street. Dim streetlamps cast and eerie light over the scene.

He slowed his pace to a halt and began searching for the Gate. If indeed the Gate was here, he knew that Kaldeer would be watching him already.

Try as he might, he couldn't see any Gate. He knew that they varied in design, but there was nothing alien about the architecture of this street.

Suddenly a distortion in his vision caught his attention.

He cast his eyes about the deformation, and as though a veil had been lifted from his eyes, the Gate came into view.

It had been built into one of the arched supports for a bridge that crossed the street. From a distance, the support looked ordinary. However one he studied it closely, he could see intricate markings and dark stones around the inside of the Gate.

With a flash, these markings and stones lit up with a brilliant blue. White, smoke-like energy filled the Gate, and from it stepped the Ringmaster.

The Eldar had fabulous attire. He wore a colourful suit beneath a huge black overcoat. He adorned himself with fantastic trinkets. From his neck hung a golden skull, and from his hips a delicate sword and pistol.

Most striking about his appearance was the helmet he wore. A giant red, Mohawk plume ran its way down the centre of the helm. Etched into his face was a grinning, devilish skull. It made even Jesse uneasy to look at it.

"Take that off, look at me," Jesse commanded before the alien had a chance to speak.

"Tut tut, Trigger," The Ringmaster said mockingly, cocking his head. He started pacing around the human. "Don't you trust me?"

"Don't mess around," Jesse said roughly, grabbing his arm. "Your man was followed, and now _I'm_ followed."

That put some urgency into the Ringmaster. He quickly took off his helmet and flashed a look of annoyance at the Stormtrooper.

"Good, it's you," Jesse said, still holding on to the harlequin.

"Of course it's me, fool." Kaldeer snapped, trying to break free of Jesse's vice-like grip, but to no avail. "Step through the gate before your incompetence catches up with us."

Jesse was about to retaliate, but shouts and footsteps from the end of the street made him think twice. He forcefully let go of Kaldeer's arm, before turning and striding through the Gate.

Jackson 7


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Sir Achilles Venator, Lord General of the Urban Tigers**

The last few days had been some of the most painful in Achilles' life.

_That's saying something_, he grimaced to himself, remembering his extensive military career.

He'd already lost track of the days. He blamed it on the fact that he was locked in a blacked out cell most of the time. His cell was so dark he couldn't see the walls, but he knew it was two by two metres wide. Water leaked through the bricks, keeping the room always cold and uncomfortable. He estimated he'd been in the Ordo Xeno's custody for a week.

They'd stripped him of his rank and possessions. All he wore was a loincloth and lice. The only food he got was the rats they kept in his cell to bite at his toes. The only water he got was the drizzle that leaked through the walls; the same water that kept him from sleep. The only sleep he got was when they finally knocked him out at the end of his torture sessions.

They knew he was a survivor.

They hadn't even bothered questioning him, yet he didn't think them stupid for it. They knew that he wouldn't say anything unless he was broken.

But it would take more than they could give to break a man like Achilles. The blindness and injustice of his situation infuriated him. The short-sightedness of this Inquisitor was exactly what the Tigers were trying to free themselves when the Commissar was executed.

The barred door to his cell slid open an Inquisitional Stormtrooper entered the cell.

"Come with me," he commanded. Achilles didn't move.

"You must be new," Achilles said, spitting at the man's feet. "We normally do this in here." He wasn't about to be ordered around.

"I know," the man replied. "Today's different. Come with me."

Achilles slowly got to his feet. His ankles and wrists were bound by shackles too small for him. He towered a head over the Stormtrooper.

"You have my attention," he said, spitting again. As unsavoury as he was acting, he hated everything that the Ordo Xenos stood for at this point.

The Stormtrooper went to grab Achilles elbow, but only earned himself a sprained wrist after it was forcefully knocked back.

"Don't touch me."

The Stormtrooper didn't argue. Achilles could see the fear in the man's eyes. The Inquisition's treatment of the Lord General over the past week had reawakened a beast within Achilles that had slept since his last deployment.

His once slightly unkempt appearance had grown into a monster. He looked like a wildling. His beard had grown out and his hair was frazzled. His once warm, deep brown eyes were now a furnace of rage beneath a brow that was as hard as rock. Any excess fat his body once possessed had been stripped away to uncover his chiselled physique.

The Stormtrooper led Achilles down a narrow concrete corridor. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He was lead into a large square interrogation room and left there. In the centre of the room was a desk with chairs on either side of it. At the back of the room was the mannequin from Achilles' office, adorned with his armour and weapons. He didn't let his rage manifest itself on his face.

He placed himself heavily in one of the chairs, hoping to face away from the mannequin. Unfortunately, a reflective window was facing him, and he saw both himself and the mannequin in it.

He studied his own reflection for a moment. This was the first time he'd seen himself since he was arrested. He was taken aback at how abruptly his body had changed; adapted.

He liked his wild appearance.

The door reopened and the Inquisitor himself strode into the room. His green greatcoat swirled behind him and his golden cane was tucked under his arm. He turned sharply on his heel to face Achilles.

"Greetings, Sir Venator," he said, almost mockingly. Achilles remained seated and silent. He felt that the look of contempt on his face forwent any need for talk.

The Inquisitor waited for a reply. Upon realising that none was coming, he strode over to the chair opposite Achilles.

"You run a tight ship, General," The Inquisitor began, placing his cane across his lap and his arms on the table. He pulled a file out of his greatcoat and placed it on the table.

The compliment took Achilles back. He looked into the Inquisitor for awhile, trying to discern anything that he could, but he couldn't read the man.

After a while, Achilles cleared his throat and said quietly:

"Why _now_ have you chosen to bring me here? Why not straight away?"

"Oh, we had things to sort out, paperwork and what-not," the Inquisitor said, trying to brush it off. "I'm sure you'll understand."

"I see," Achilles said with a click of his tongue.

"Yeah, actually there were a few things I wanted to ask you," the Inquisitor continued. "Firstly, what happened to the Lord Commissar? Ryan, I believe his name was."

"Ah, he was killed," Achilles replied, staring straight at the man. "Tragic accident, that was."

The Inquisitor gave a faint smile.

"How unfortunate," he said cordially. He opened the file on the desk. "Now how about your right-hand man. Trigger, I believe he's known as. You wouldn't have any idea where he is?"

"No."

"Of course not. What of these… _rumours_ of your alliance with a Xeno warband? Anything you'd like to tell me?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you there."

"I understand. And the Chaos cult?"

"I know nothing."

The two men stared at each other for several tense seconds.

"I don't know what you're trying to do here, but-" Achilles said in a low voice.

"-I'm just trying to get to the bottom of all this and restore peace to the sector."

Achilles slammed his fists on the table.

"You want to restore peace?" he roared. "How about sending some of your Emperor-damned Deathwatch to kill some Tau?"

"Please, General, sit," the Inquisitor said soothingly. "Have a drink."

From somewhere within his greatcoat, he pulled a glass bottle and two glasses. He poured a small amount of golden liquid into each glass and passed one to Achilles.

Achilles cautiously raised his glass to his lips, suspecting poison. He was slightly reassured when he saw the Inquisitor take a sip of the drink.

"I still don't know your name, Inquisitor," Achilles said, trying to buy a few seconds. The Inquisitor peered at him from behind the rim of his glass.

"My name is Charles Lautrec," he replied. While he was talking, Achilles took a quick sniff of his drink. His face darkened as he recognised the smell.

"Such hospitality, to offer me my own drink," he said darkly. He glared at Charles and watched as fear crept across his face.

Achilles threw the glass across the table and watched it shatter on the Inquisitor. The man shrieked in pain as the glass cut his face and the harsh liquid burned his flesh.

The Inquisitor's warm façade failed and he leapt to his feet, slamming his palms on the table. His face was red with anger and blood. He opened his mouth to curse at Achilles, but the General jumped to his feet and slammed his palms on the table, to much greater effect.

"Sit down!" he roared at the man. A bit of the Inquisitor's bravado left the man, but to his credit he stayed standing.

"I said sit down!" Achilles roared again, pushing Charles in the chest and sending him falling over his chair and onto the ground. He advanced on the downed man but stopped when the door burst open and a huge Astartes burst into the room. He was clothed in black robes, but even without his power armour he was big enough to dominate the room easily.

The Marine rushed at Achilles. The General braced himself, and a moment before the Astartes reached him he tried to throw a frenzied punch at his face, but he had no hope of hitting the monstrous man.

The Marine pinned Achilles against the wall by pressing his forarm against his throat.

The Inquisitor picked himself off the floor and tried to regather what dignity he had left. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped up some of the blood on his face.

He approached Achilles who was still pinned against the wall, his hands behind his back.

"You just assaulted an Imperial Inquisitor," Charles said, his face inches from Achilles. "I'll have you hanged for that. But not before I hunt down Trigger, your Eldar allies and destroy any honour your regiment has left when I find this cult!"

Achilles spat in his face.

"It's been over 24 hours since you lost Trigger, you'll only find him when he wants you to, I assure you," Achilles said.

"We'll see about that," the Inquisitor said. He nodded to the Astartes, who put a little more pressure on Achilles' neck.

A few seconds later, the Lord General's world went black.

+++ Hi everyone,

I think this is the first time I've written to you guys. Please forgive me for the time gap between the 5th and 6th chapters, I'll try to be more diligent.

For future reference, the Urban Tiger's Stormtroopers are known amongst the Tigers as Spartans. I wanted to give them an alternative name to Stormtroopers, in the same way that Cadian Stormtroopers are Kasrkins, and Kreig Stormtroopers are Grenadiers. I was tossing up between Spartans or Centurions, but since the release of the new Marine Centurions, I took it as a sign from the Emperor to name them Spartans.

I have a mate who is also writing fanfics about my Urban Tigers, and I'm trying to convince him to allow me to upload them to the site (Under his name, of course). So you may be seeing more of the Tigers in yet another story which I'll be editing, otherwise full credit goes to him.

Thanks to everyone who has posted reviews, it's you guys who keep me writing. I guess I'll start giving y'all feedback for the feedback you gave me.

Mr. Trigger/Sonicanpersonallytellyou: I'm not 100% sure what name you go by, so I just put both. Thanks for you in depth review and advice. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've tried to take it on board and tried to use some cooler English, I hope it's paying off.

BIBOTOT: Thanks for your reviews across all my stories. I am aware that this story is slower than my others, but I'm doing this on purpose because I'm trying to go really in-depth with this one.

Kit: Thanks for following the story! I'm not sure if you're being sarcastic about liking the cliff-hanger or not, but you'd better get used to them ;) Hopefully they keep you wanting to read.

artilyon-rand: Thanks to you too for following the story :) I realise that I've been calling the Eldar elves, as in my opinion they essentially are space elves. I assure you its no mistake that I refer to them as elves. I wanted something quick to refer to them as in everyday language. For example: "What kind of a man are you?" would translate to "What kind of an elf are you?" when talking to an Eldar. If refering to individual Eldar as elves is strongly going against the lore, I will amend it, but for now I think that speech flows better

Anyway, that's all for now. I hope everyone's enjoying the story, and to anyone out there, it'd be cool if you took the time to leave your thoughts, good or bad.

Thanks,

Shpodoinkle +++


End file.
